Pandora's Fall
by Necronicus
Summary: Jake has united the clans and is ready for war; Quaritch is readying his forces, along with "Able" Ryder, who is gonna make sure of her name 'Daemoness' is remembered well. AU. Little love and RDAness in it.


_**Disclaimer:**___I do not own Avatar. James Cameron does.

As soon she got the high-priority message from Quaritch, she had jumped on the next Samson to Hell's Gate, along with her friend Batista. As soon as they arrived there, she could already see the base, buzzing with activity; and Ryder didn't need to be Signal Spec to know that something big was up.

She could hardly believe it's been two years, since she arrived. Since then alot had changed: the former black haired, with a dash of red haired corporal, was now a lieutenant, who had been brought as a regular signals decoder and analyst, given an avatar body aswell for her work. Yet certain reasons, losing her avatar, killing her former Commander and doing almost the opposite of a regular Signal Specialist; had forced her to adapt to Pandora's harshness. The higher-ups also realizing, the _former _corporal had had some hidden combat skills. Who had almost single-handedly killed the entire Tipani Clan, earning herself the Na'vi nickname 'Vrassressa' or 'daemoness'. Activated the Emulator, which had given the RDA, some much needed breathing space, and improved the morale of many troops with her combat and _problem solving _skills, becoming a local legend among the grunts.

"Duty calls, Daemoness," said Batista, from across her, the Samson having landed.

"Whatever Batista...sheez. You kill a clan, then suddenly, every smurf starts to call you that, now it sticks to me like glue," replied Ryder, in a mock sigh.

"Well you did make an entire clan go TA-TA. Being 'Able' doesn't cut, NoNo. You need a getter nickname..like the Daemoness, or Daemonbringer, or -," he said, before Ryder cut him off.

"Alright, sheez..._don't get jumpy_, " replied Ryder, going into Hell's Gate HQ, before getting decondaminated. _Getter?_

"Alright, let's see what the Colonel wants."

"Probably wants us to make a clan-y, go boom-y," replied Batista, in his regular Gung-Ho tone.

"Colonel," said Ryder, arriving at the RDA Operations Center, giving a salute. "Lt. Ryder, reporting. You asked for me?"

"Indeed Lt.," replied Colonel Quaritch, sipping on some coffee. "Walk with me."

"What's the reason for the large buildup and activity, Sir?" asked Ryder, following the Colonel, Batista behind her.

"Blues are on the warpath, and so are we. We're getting everybody to kick those, savages back into their little caves," he said, checking on a couple of people and datapads, before continuing.

"Since you're a local legend around her Ryder, I though maybe, you'd like to lead the ground forces," said Quaritch, then laughing. "Maybe even scare the smurfs away, when they see you."

"Warpath?" asked Ryder, a bit disturbed. "How many clans?"

"I'm not sure on their 'clans'; about 2000 and counting, an entire planet worth of stick-wielders," he replied casually.

"Who's their leader?" asked Ryder.

"Tree-hugger-betrayer Jake Sully, he along with his other pals: Norm Spellman, Dr. Augustine, and a rouge pilot Trudy Chacon."

"Darn, Lt. Didn't she drive you around?" asked Batista, from behind.

Ryder ignored Batista's remarque, their _tour_ having re-arrived at the OPS center.

"When do we attack?"

"In three days. Until then, we gather our forces, and watch the blue's," replied the Colonel. "Heard about your boys down in Blue Lagoon, nasty tough o'nails, I heard."

"Aye, Sir. Trained them from myself, stuff from my own experience."

"Though so. So you interested?" asked Quaritch.

"Yes, Sir," replied Ryder, saluting.

"Alright then, dismissed Lt," he replied. Ryder turning around and now heading for the mess hall, faster than usual, Batista not far behind.

The mess hall was mostly empty, the odd soldier eating or drinking, and the cooks.

"Hi, 'Able', what can I get ya?" asked the mess sergeant.

"Gimme the day's regular," replied Ryder.

"Aight," replied the sergeant, getting some mashed potatoes and a slice of meat. "Enjoy."

"Thanks, Gaines," she replied, taking a seat alone, starting to slowly eat the meal.

"Why the long-face Lt.? You haven't been this down since Falco," asked Batista, taking a seat next to her, soda in hand.

"You heard the Colonel. Blues are mobilizing," replied Ryder, her eyes nailed on the food.

"So what's the biggie? We'll kick their sticking wieldin' asses...cause we got the BIGGER stick," laughed out Batista.

"This is different Batista," she replied, throwing the left-overs in the bin, leaving the cafeteria.

"Hey, hey 'daemoness', how is this different?" asked Batista, catching up to her.

"We're facing every damn clan on Pandora; not just a single clan," said Ryder, scoffing.

"And?"

"They're attacking _US_, not the other way around...you and me, both know how deadly the Na'vi can be, when provoked," said Ryder.

"Well you took the Tipani's," replied Batista, sipping on his soda.

"I didn't take them down alone," she added.

"_Technically_, you did."

"I had your guys help: you, Winslow, Welles...and the rest up there."

"Ryder, seems like you're stressed out..and I know the best rid of that," sayed Batista, smirking.

Honestly, she had figured Batista's way of stressing out involved rocks and ALOT of explosives; not a trip to the gym.

Ryder, herself was currently doing some cardio on the treadmill.

"Un-stressed yet?" asked Batista, lifting some weights.

"Nope," she replied, still feeling the uneasy knot in her stomach.

"Put your back into it," he replied laughing.

'Alright then'," she thought, setting the treadmill to maximum.

After five hours in the gym, she could say, that the uneasy feeling was gone...only being replaced by the feeling of wanting to puke her guts out.

"Damnnnn Ryder, I said put your back into it, not your entire spine," he replied chuckling; dragging the exhausted soldier back to the barracks's.

"What...ever...Batista," she panted, hanging onto his neck, her legs having given out ten minutes ago.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"My...legs...given...out...what..do..you...think?" she panted out.

"Point taken," he replied, having arrived at the barracks, dragging Ryder to a bed. "Cya later."

Having been left with some other sleeping grunts, Ryder still couldn't shake the feeling that something big was going to happen; and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of a Na'vi spear.

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